Tag: proctologist

Maybe I’m writing this post because I’m now 50, because I certainly can’t see me writing something like this even when I was 40. We’re about to talk bowel movements, folks; serious stuff here, but if you’re uncomfortable reading about it, move on to something else now. Great Sunday fare, this will be.

Here’s the thing. I’ve had problems going, as in #2, since I was a kid. I don’t really know why, I just did. But I never mentioned it to anyone. I just went about my business whenever my body said “it’s time”, and that was that. Sometimes I’d go daily, but most of the time I went every 3 to 4 days. Talk about being uncomfortable, and dealing with pain.

As I’ve gotten older, I started to find that I couldn’t deal with the pain as well anymore. Man, stuff starts to beat your body up as you get older. Not only that, but sometimes it wasn’t just the pain, it was everything else. Many times it was worse than spending 30 minutes working out on the treadmill. Legs would actually get quivery, if that’s a real word, and I was finding myself having to rest upwards of a half hour before I could get my heart to stop beating heavily. Talk about workouts!

Yeah, there were some other problems as well, but I knew it was time to do something. What many people don’t know is that one of the major places where people have heart attacks is on the toilet; how about that for a stat? Where I live, shoveling snow is number two, but worldwide, number one is sitting on the toilet. I know I’m not the only one who’s ever experienced this issue, obviously. But I finally did something about it.

I went to a proctologist, although it turns out they don’t necessarily like going by that term anymore. Instead, they want to be called colorectal surgeons. Hey, whatever right? Trust me, it was an embarrassing thing for me to do, but I had to decide pain versus embarrassment, and pain won out. No one likes being in pain, and I had to get this issue under control.

I was really worried that I might also have hemorrhoids, and that’s no laughing matter either. I know a few people who’ve had that operation; it’s not a day in the park. Like I needed anyone cutting on me again; I’ve already had both a hernia operation and an operation on my breast to remove a lump. A hemorrhoids operation sounded like no fun at all.

So the guy checks me out and says I “only” have fissures. That’s still painful, but it could be helped. However, it was the other issue I was having that he said was the thing to address. And he recommended something called Miralax. He said it wasn’t necessarily a laxative; in other words, it might not necessarily make you go. What it would do, though, is break down whatever it is that makes things not want to come out when it’s time so that there would be no more pain, and my body could heal.

Just so you know, in my life I’d tried a lot of things. I’d even gone the Metamucil route, thinking that might fix things; nope. But this Miralax thing is something else. It did end up making me go more regular, as long as I remember to take it. It makes things much easier across the board. I get that stuff out of my system, it doesn’t hurt anymore, my body has healed, and man, life is just better.

I’m here to tell you that embarrassing or not, pain and suffering isn’t worth it. To me, this issue is more important than the Viagra thing any day of the year (okay, I don’t have that as an issue, but that’s certainly never been a painful thing for anyone as far as I know). And it affects both men and women. I’m reminded of it a few times here and there when I forget to take it for a few days; call me a moron at those times, but I’m not giving up on it ever again.

By the way, it’s not inexpensive really. It costs around $20 for a 17.9 oz bottle. But it’s worth it, and it certainly lasts longer than a pizza will (and it’ll help you get that pizza back out of you if you’ve asked fro extra cheese, which is how I usually get my pizza).